


Baby, You're The Coldest

by LieutenantWubs



Series: The Gay and Wondrous Life of Connor Anderson [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Bottom Hank, Chair Bondage, Consensual Non-Consent, Criminal Hank, Face Slapping, Gun Kink, Handcuffs, Hank being cocky and being put in his place, Lieutenant Connor, M/M, Sexual Roleplay, bloody noses, but im still gonna add it, lots of banter, the non-consent part is VERY small, this was an excuse to banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 07:43:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15190058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieutenantWubs/pseuds/LieutenantWubs
Summary: Hank knew it was only a matter of time before he finally slipped, making a stupid mistake that would get him caught.But damn if it isn't worth it to see the Lieutenant glaring down at him like he was the most pathetic waste of his time.





	Baby, You're The Coldest

**Author's Note:**

> WELL... This is different from my last fic...
> 
> //I kinda like it//

The first thing Hank noticed as he opened his eyes was that it was dark. _Very dark._

The second thing he noticed was the feeling of a bag over his head. That would explain the lack of light, and probably why he was sitting in a chair.

Hank reached up, but as soon as he realized that his hands were crossed _behind him_ , his hands were stopped by the sharp bite of metal into his wrists, the clinking sound ringing out loudly wherever he was. He scoffed.

_How original_

He tested the strength of the handcuffs a few times, rattling them against the chair he was strapped to. It wasn’t long before he gave up, accepting that it was a waste of energy. Whoever was behind this would have to expose themselves eventually. He just had to be patient, even if it killed his shoulders.

Though something in the back of his mind, and in his sore body, told him he probably knew who brought him here.

“Hello, Anderson.”

Well, he couldn’t say he was surprised. He turned to where the voice seemed to be coming from, smirking even though the bag hid it.

“Connor! What a pleasant surprise, and please, just fucking call me Hank.” He got comfortable in the chair, leaning back and spreading his legs, “I like to think that after all this time we would be on a first name basis.”

He hissed through his teeth as the bag was pulled off his head, the light dangling over him stinging his eyes. He hadn’t even heard the bastard moving towards him. Damn fucking cop bots.

“I have no interest in being on a first name basis with a someone such as yourself. You’d be wise to show some respect, _Anderson_. It might save you from an unfavorable outcome.”

Hank slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the sudden brightness. He focused on Connor’s fancy dress shoes. _Who the fuck chases criminals in those things_? Smiling to himself, Hank shot his foot forward to scuff the stuffy bastard’s shoes, taking personal pride in seeing the man step back with a sound of frustration. Hank tried to glance up, hardly making Connor out through the light.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there through this obnoxious spotlight, _Lieutenant_. Want me to give you a spit shine?” Hank let out a strained laugh as Connor grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, his eyes finally adjusting to the light and letting him see the look of barely controlled rage crossing the younger man’s face, LED flashing yellow. “Don’t lose a screw over it, Robocop. They’re just shoes— Hey! Easy!” The rough tug on his scalp had him hissing in pain, and while Connor’s grip on his hair eased back a bit, it still didn’t loosen completely.

“You’re incredibly lucky that you have information I’m looking for, Anderson. Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Connor pulled his hand back, knocking Hank’s head forward. He glared up at the Lieutenant, muttering that he was a prick. Connor ignored him to pull a small table on wheels forward. Hank eyed it warily.

There was a file on it, no doubt containing information on him in general, as well as whatever the detective thought was relevant or important about the job he caught Hank doing. No, what really had his attention was the pistol that was resting innocently next to the envelop. Hank straightened himself back up in the chair, squaring his shoulders and staring Connor eye to eye.

“I’m guessing that’s what the gun is for? Gonna wave it around like you’re hot shit until I spill my guts? Cause I’ve been in this situation enough to know that it’s a bluff.” Hank rolled his neck, trying to alleviate the cramp that was beginning to form. “You won’t do shit, Connor, you’ve never had it in you. _That’s_ why we’re still in this situation, cause _you_ can’t do your job right.” Hank kicked at the ground, doing everything in his power to appear nonchalant as a big ‘fuck you’ to the Lieutenant.

Connor had steeled his expression, challenging Hank’s calm composure to his cold one. The detective would have the best poker face in the world if that damn LED didn’t give him away. Hank was ready to bet that he’d win this round.

The Lieutenant grabbed the pistol, pulling a magazine round out of his back pocket and loading it in, handling the firearm as if it weren’t a life ending machine. Then again, the same could be said for Connor.

“I don’t think you understand your situation here, _Hank_.” He stressed his name, “While you do give my fellow officers a challenge, your actions are merely child’s play to me. A tedious chore where I have to keep cleaning up after you.” Connor inspected the gun closely, passing it from one hand to the other. “I don’t know how you keep getting on the jury’s good side. Even with everything I can pin on you, you always seem to get right back onto the streets with no more than a slap to the wrist. But this time? This time you made a fatal error.” The Lieutenant put the gun back on the table, striding up to Hank and leaning down until they were face to face, a devious smirk crossing his perfectly sculptured features. “You decided to flee to a nearby warehouse, where there was an _oh so_ convenient sewage pipe next door.”

Connor tilted his head slightly. “Now… do you really think my officers, _or_ Captain Fowler would question their most decorated Lieutenant when he says that the suspect unfortunately died in his attempt to flee?” Hank glared at him, pulling at the handcuffs again. Connor straightened back to his full height. “As far as anyone is concerned, your case file is ready to be closed and put away rather nicely. Which means I can do _whatever the hell I want_ , Hank.”

Hank remembered soberly why he gave up gambling a long time ago.

His bets never paid out.

He struggled on the chair, moving the chair forward inch by inch every time he thrashed from side to side. Connor’s foot stomped down on the small space between Hank’s legs on the chair, the tip of his shoe edging dangerously close to his crotch. Hank raised an eyebrow up at the cop.

“You know, I used to have this wet dream back when I was—” His train of thought was stopped suddenly as a hand smacked across his face, knocking his head to the side. Hank groaned as he recovered from the blow.

“ _Fucking hell_ …”

“I’m not putting up with your nonsense anymore, Anderson. You’re going to tell me what I want to know, or I’m going to put a bullet in you.” Connor took his jacket off, folding it and placing it on the table before rolling his dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows. “I’ve got all night. It’s up to you how long this takes.”

Hank could feel wetness leaking from his nose. He couldn’t wait for the blood to reach his lips so he could spit and ruin the Lieutenant’s neat white shirt.

“When you say a bullet… do you mean a magic bullet?” He was answered with Connor kicking his chair up, the air escaping Hank as he tipped back and hit the ground. He went a little lightheaded from the rush.

“I know everything I need to know about you, but perhaps we should go over your file in case you lost anything during your pathetic excuse for a chase.” Hank tried to scoff, but it came out more as a weak groan.

“Yeah, sure, hit me with some fucking exposition, why don’t you?”

Connor’s feet appeared beside his head, before the man squatted down, file in hand.

“Hank Anderson, age 54, born on September 6, 1985. Your record was relatively clean, save for the occasional fine for vandalism and indecent public behavior, until you hit 30, when you attempted to rob a convenient store with some friends.” Connor looked down at him, “I have read that humans tend to do silly things when they begin to experience a mid-life crisis, but that is just sad.” Hank rolled his eyes as Connor turned back to the file. “From there you were repeatedly sighted committing petty crimes, as well as the occasional break-ins. In the last year, however, you’ve turned to larger targets. Why is that? Why do I seem to keep getting called to hunt your ass down?” The Lieutenant closed the file, placing it on the ground next to Hank’s face. “Is someone paying you? Seems like the only rational reason you’d switch to crimes that are deemed worthy of my time.”

Hank smiled up at the android. “Oh, Connor… here I thought you’d figure it out, being Detroit’s most ‘decorated Lieutenant’ and all.”

Connor furrowed his brows. Hank winked.

“I did it so I’d have all your attention! I love seeing your perky little ass investigating the scenes I leave just for you.” Hank laughed as Connor’s fists clenched, his mouth twisting into a scowl. The younger man got up, dragging Hank’s chair back up with him, making the lightheadedness return. “Fuck, I’m gonna pass out if you keep doing that shit.”

“I’d thoroughly enjoy it if you went silent for awhile.”

“How do plan on getting the answers you want if I’m silent?”

“ _Anderson_.” Connor gave him a glare that sent a shiver through Hank’s body. He couldn’t quite place if it was from arousal or fear though, and his cock was just as confused as it twitched. He licked his lips anxiously, the coppery tang of blood quickly assaulting his senses.

 “Look, I’m not telling you shit, because there’s nothing _to_ tell you. I did all those things because it was fun, _it gave me a rush_. It was only a matter of time before that got tame, so I seeked out something new. Something that’d give me a _real_ adrenaline rush. I never thought having a robocop chasing me down would be the thing to do it, but here we are.” Hank spread his legs again, taking a risk at exposing his desire. He wanted to crack the composed Lieutenant.

He hoped his risk wouldn’t be miscalculated.

Connor glanced down at his growing erection, his expression changing to one of confusion, then his eyes widened slightly with understanding. Connor took a step forward, standing between his legs, hands rubbing together.

“Yes, here we are, same dynamic as always. Me in control, with you dragging behind, desperate for any leeway you can get.” Connor’s hand grabbed one of the drawstrings of Hank’s sweatshirt, twirling it between his fingers. Hank’s breath hitched as he watched those gentle fingers play with the fabric, knowing damn well that they could do so much harm if Connor wanted them to. He’d seen the way those fingers had curled around a gun just minutes before, the way they comfortably fitted themselves on the trigger.

He cursed himself for finding that so hot.

“However, there seems to be a new element this time around. I need your confession about your role in all these crimes.” The Lieutenant thought for a moment. “No, I _want_ your confession. The police department has already moved onto other targets, others who are connected to whoever is pushing this agenda. You know there’s no getting out, no free walk out of the courthouse, so there’s no point in keeping it secret. You’re going to give me what I want, Anderson.” Connor pushed back Hank’s hair, holding it to keep his face clear, pausing for some time. _Probably analyzing him._ Connor tilted his head, “I was designed to be the best investigator, so negotiation is one of my strong suits. Perhaps I just need to find the right bargaining chip for you.”

Hank felt those sweet brown eyes digging deep into him. There was no doubt in his mind that his face was flushed red, he could feel the heat in the tips of his ears. The jeans he decided to wear today suddenly seemed like a terrible idea on his part. He swallowed audibly.

“Yeah… yeah maybe you do. What did you have in mind?” His brain seemed to shut down in anticipation, his cock pushing against his zipper desperately. The taste of blood still tingled the back of his tongue.

Connor gave him a cold smile. His presence over Hank mentally and physically weighing him down.

“Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll take you up on that spit shining you offered earlier.”

Hank glared up at him, sagging back into the chair.

“Fuck you, that was a joke. I’m not gonna be some bitch who licks your boots. I’d rather bite the bullet.” He turned his head away, knowing that he was a lying sack of shit, but Hank wasn’t going to give the prick the satisfaction of seeing that disappointment and anger on his face.

“You misunderstand me, Hank.” The use of his name had him looking sideways. The view of Connor pulling his belt strap open had his head snapping forward. “I wasn’t referring to my shoes. I can see that your more carnal desires have taken over your senses for logical reasoning, so it would _reason_ that I need to pull the confession out of you. Even if that means I need to fuck it out of you.”

Hank would be an even bigger lying sack of shit if he said that he hadn’t thought of the Lieutenant in a sexual way before this night, but he always assumed he was projecting when he imagined Connor with a dick. But as Connor shifted his pants down, enough to pull out his own hardening length, Hank realized he hadn’t projected _enough_. Connor stroked himself a few times, precum leaking out the tip.

Hank cleared his throat. “What makes you think I want _this_? If you put that anywhere near my mouth I could suddenly decide to use teeth. Have you running for the nearest repair shop real fucking quick.” Connor stepped closer. Hank turned in time for the cock to miss his mouth and instead rub against his cheek, smearing precum into his facial hair.

“Besides the obvious evidence supporting the conclusion that you desperately want this, I don’t think you’re in a position to object.” Hank hated the smug look on the Lieutenant’s face. Hated that he was _right_. But he was nothing if not stubborn.

“You can point fingers at my dick all you want, but it means nothing—” He didn’t see Connor reaching for something to the side, but the chilling sensation of metal suddenly pressing into his temple had Hank realizing that Connor wasn’t joking. He made eye contact with the detective, cursing mentally as he licked his bottom lip, cock straining in his pants, the taste of blood heightening again.

Connor looked so fucking pleased.

A hand tangled in his hair, tugging Hank forward, pressing his lips against Connor’s dick. He finally relented and opened his mouth, groaning deeply as Connor pushed his length in, stretching his mouth wide around his girth. Fingers massaged his scalp, pulling a moan from the older man as the Lieutenant set his own pace, fucking Hank’s mouth steadily, pushing deeper with each thrust. The tip of the gun barrel dug into his skin, a dangerously erotic reminder that he had to take whatever Connor gave him.

Hank looked up, suddenly wishing he could touch himself.

Connor’s eyes were shut, his face twisted with pleasure as small whines left him. His usually stoic face had a deep blue blush decorating it, highlighting his cheeks, while the light on his temple slowly pulsed between yellow and blue. His eyes opened slightly, connecting with Hank’s.

He hummed around Connor’s cock, eyes rolling back as Connor’s hips bucked forward, hitting the back of his throat. The younger man tightened his hold on Hank’s head, holding him there for a moment before pulling him off his dick. A string of saliva connected Hank’s lips to Connor’s tip, with more coating his chin. He took a shuddering breath as Connor dragged his dick along his bottom lip, sticking his tongue out to lap at it.

“Can you uncuff me?” Connor eyed him warily, dragging the gun along his heated flesh.

“The probability of you using the opportunity to get the upper hand is forty percent. Too high for my liking.” The Lieutenant traced Hank’s jaw with the pistol. Hank shivered. “Why should I?”

“You said it yourself, you’re in control here, Lieutenant. I want to touch you, feel you come undone as you fuck my mouth.” Connor groaned, the pressure of the gun loosening slightly. “I’ll tell you what you want after all of this, just give me this, _please_.”

Connor looked down at him with lidded eyes, pushing the gun tip to his lips. Hank wrapped his mouth around the barrel, precum, metal, blood, and gunpowder mixing into a disgustingly heady taste. His cock jerked with excitement, knowing that Connor could end it all right here, but also knowing that he _wouldn’t_. No matter what he says.

“Fuck… don’t try anything, Anderson.” Hank hummed in approval as the gun was suddenly pulled from his mouth. Connor moved quickly to remove his restraints, and he sighed in relief when the metal around his wrists finally fell away, allowing him to rub circulation back into them.

He didn’t get a chance to say anything before Connor was back in front of him, pushing his cock past Hank’s lips. He grabbed the younger man’s hips, not pushing or pulling, just simply holding onto him as Connor drove in deep with every thrust.

His hand dropped down to his own erection, finally releasing it from it’s denim prison with a deep groan, sucking on Connor’s cock with renewed vigor as he jerked himself off, only having his precum as lubricant, but already feeling so close to release. Hank’s other hand dragged along the Lieutenant’s hip, trailing back towards his ass, grabbing and fondling one of the perky cheeks that he always enjoyed watching from afar.

The sound of something heavy hitting the floor diverted his attention, and he noticed the gun lying off to the side.

A second hand grabbed his head, forcing a groan from Hank as he was pulled forward, Connor’s cock hitting the back of his throat repeatedly. His nose kept getting pushed against Connor’s skin, small traces of blood smearing into his smooth, pale skin, creating a vibrant contrast. The younger man’s chest was heaving from how heavily he was breathing, desperately trying to stay cool. Hank blearily thought that he probably didn’t look much better.

His strokes sped up, desperate for release as the pressure in his groin built up, making him ache all over. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes, creating what he imagined to be an image that could only be described as needy.

Suddenly Connor’s hips stilled, his hands forcing Hank down until his lips almost reached the base of his cock. He moaned loudly, cock twitching in Hank’s mouth as he came, forcing him to either swallow or gag.

Hank felt his dick jerk with the force of his orgasm as he forced himself to swallow the Lieutenant’s come, breathing heavily through his nose to keep himself from choking. The bitter taste of the synthetic fluid flooded his taste buds, overpowering everything else.

He sucked weakly at Connor’s length as it was pulled from his mouth, the younger man’s entire posture relaxing as he tucked himself back into his pants. Hank leaned back in the chair, mind going blank as he calmed his racing heart, tiredly wiping the cum on his hands off on his jeans, hardly registering the sound of Connor walking away. After a moment the bright overhead light turned off.

Hank felt like he was about to pass out on the chair when a pair of gentle hands grabbed his jaw, forcing him to crack an eye open.

“Come on, Hank, you should rest.”

“Mmm.” Hank mumbled, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet, his legs shaking slightly from exertion. Connor pushed the chair and table to the side of the bedroom, having already picked up the gun and placing it safely on the small desk.

It was a team effort to get Hank out of his clothes. He managed to pull his sweatshirt off while Connor wrestled his jeans down, before turning to rid himself of his own attire. Hank sank into the mattress, watching through lidded eyes as Connor stripped down.

“That was… intense.” Connor looked back at him, giving him a soft smile before grabbing a tissue and sitting on the bed next to him. With careful precision, Connor cleaned the blood that still lingered on Hank’s face.

“Yes, but I’m glad you enjoyed it. I know it was a lot of me to ask, so it means so much that you were willing to indulge me.” Connor threw the bloodied tissue away, turning to wrap himself around Hank’s back, kissing his neck softly and caressing his chest. “I just hope I didn’t hurt you, Hank… I almost stopped when you started bleeding, but you kept going.” Hank felt Connor’s hands tighten in his chest hair, as well as his forehead press into his back. Hank grabbed Connor’s hand and squeezed.

“Nah, I’m ok. Really fucking tired though, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten into a scene as much as I did there. Takes a lot outta you.” Hank pulled Connor’s hand up so he could kiss his knuckles. “Neither of us overstepped any boundaries, and that’s all that matters.”

Connor made a soft noise of approval, pressing himself closer to Hank.

“Thank you, Hank. I love you.”

“Love you too, Con.”

**Author's Note:**

> You give an android a penis and suddenly he's calling the shots


End file.
